


a promise of later

by helsinkibaby



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: 1-million-words, F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7016725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo and Ainsley get ready for the Correspondents' Dinner</p>
            </blockquote>





	a promise of later

**Author's Note:**

> Theme : grab bag   
> Prompts : 3 things - necklace, Cologne, gloves

Ainsley stands in front of the full length mirror and eyes herself critically. 

Long jade green dress, form fitting enough to be flattering but not enough to cause a diplomatic incident, or headlines on the front of the _Washington Post_? Check. 

Enough makeup to accentuate her best features but not enough to make her look like, as her grandmother would have said, a painted lady? Check. 

Hair neatly pinned and curled, pulled back enough to show off the necklace that- 

"Damn."

She says the word out loud, holds up her gloved hands in front of her and curses the designer who decided that evening gloves should be a thing. Because this strapless dress not only demands a necklace but was specifically chosen to show one off and there's no way she can handle the clasp with gloves. Just getting the damn things on had been an ordeal; Ainsley's not ready to take them off and shortly thereafter go through the whole thing again. 

She opens her mouth but before she can speak, there's a chuckle, low and knowing, behind her. She sees a movement in the mirror and Leo comes up behind her, lips twitching in that little half-smile she loves so much. "Need a little help?" he asks but he doesn't wait for her reply, picks up the necklace and places it around her neck. 

His fingers are sure as he fastens the clasp, gentle as he arranges the chain so it sits properly on her neck. Evil as they trace a pattern against her skin that sends shivers down her spine. He's standing closer to her than he probably needs to, close enough that the scent of his cologne surrounds her and all she wants to do is lean back against him, close her eyes.

So she does. 

They take a moment, just standing there, and when he leans down, presses a kiss to her shoulder, she opens her eyes, makes herself straighten up. His eyes meet hers in the mirror as he says, "We could always skip the dinner..."

It's tempting but it's the Correspondents' Dinner and he's the Vice President so she knows better. "We really can't," she says and his smile turns rueful. 

"We really can't," he echoes because he knows it too. 

She turns, loops her arms around his neck and smiles as his go around her waist. "Later?" she asks and his answer is a promise. 

"Later." 


End file.
